


crimson fire

by skrsgards



Series: Roman Godfrey Works [2]
Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Blood Kink, Choking, F/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 02:03:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17315996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skrsgards/pseuds/skrsgards
Summary: in which he's starving, and he just wants a little taste





	crimson fire

“Let me have a taste.”

His words spun through your head, weaving through your mind like a spider weaving its web. Your skin was hot to the touch. So hot, that you thought he’d burn himself when he touched you. 

Fire. Beneath your skin, between your legs. Red hot. Red as blood. The blood that he could smell, the blood that he wanted so desperately to taste. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe. Eyes so green stared into your own, picking apart the very soul of you, reading, calculating, discerning. 

When he touched you, you gasped, an ache so intense blossoming between your legs, more intense than it had been moments before. His fingers trailed down, down, down, until...

“I’m starving. Please, just let me bury my face in that sweet sweet pussy. I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

It had all escalated so quickly. You’d been seated at the dinner table when he came home. He’d greeted you with a kiss and sat down beside you, where you asked him how his day had gone. He’d started to tell you, recounting the rough day he’d had, until he paused. His eyes met yours, and you looked at him questioningly as he breathed in through his nose, eyes fluttering shut promptly after. 

“What?” You softly questioned. 

He opened his eyes, leaning forward, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. Not one of embarrassment, but one of arousal. “I can smell you,” he spoke, voice low, breathless. “You’re bleeding.”

You swallowed, a pang running through your stomach. “Y-yeah. I started this morning.” 

Roman took another breath, nostrils flaring slightly. He reached for your hand atop the table, squeezing it tightly. Need washed over him, practically salivating at the thought of burying his face in your sensitive, crimson stained cunt. You, too, were growing warm. Suddenly, the fire burning in the fireplace was too warm, the air was stifling, your skin was hot. 

“Let me have a taste.”

“B-but, dinner-”

“Dinner can fucking wait. I need your fucking cunt in my mouth right now.”

And so, after he’d managed to shove his fingers between your thighs and pull back with scarlet fingertips, he looked at you. “Stand up,” he commanded. 

You obeyed, doing so on legs that shook. He, too, stood, gazing down at you. “Go up to the bedroom, take off your clothes, and wait for me.”

“Yes sir,” you whispered, words nothing more than a wisp of breath slipping past your lips. You turned on your heel, making your way through the house, up the stairs, down the hall, to the bedroom. With hands that trembled, you began to remove your clothes. Pants, top, underwear, bra. They were all discarded, leaving you to stand there in the middle of the room, breathing rushed. 

Despite how warm you’d been downstairs, you were suddenly chilly, goosebumps rising, nipples hardening. You were aching, which was normal for this time of the month. But it was more than that. The pain was mingled with heady arousal. You trembled with it. 

The sound of Roman’s footsteps in the hall had a whimper slipping from your throat, and when he walked into the room, he met your gaze. For a few moments, neither of you made a move. His eyes flickered down, taking in the sight of your body, and even further down, where he stopped between your legs. Your flow was always heavy in the beginning, and you always smelled the best then, to him. Sweet, like a juicy summer fruit just waiting to be bit into. 

When it began to drip down your legs, Roman growled, reaching you in two long strides. He dropped to his knees in front of you, and looked up at you as he opened his mouth, letting his tongue dart out to taste. Deep, saccharine, a little metallic. The moan that left him was so low you could barely hear it. 

He straightened then, and without a word, he grabbed your shoulders, and pushed you gently towards the bed, reaching around to your back to lift you effortlessly into his arms and place you upon the bed. 

“Keep your legs spread,” he insisted, seamlessly moving to discard his clothing. You watched him, biting your lip as his underwear came down, revealing his hard cock, heavy, rosy tipped. Your mouth watered at the sight, but you knew he probably wouldn’t allow you to taste it tonight. 

He climbed onto the bed, moving languidly, muscle and bone rippling beneath his milky skin as he moved, settling between your legs, which he pushed further apart. He prodded into you with his finger, dipping into that warm slickness, at which you gasped, moving your hips against him when he nudged that particular spot inside of you. 

He pulled his finger back, and sucked the blood from it, after which he grabbed your thighs tightly and ducked his head forward, opening his mouth. He trailed his tongue over you, lapping at it all, moaning at the taste. Oh, he’d needed this so badly. 

He wrapped his lips around your clit, suckling heartily, desperately. “Mm, what a tasty little pussy,” he grunted, mouth still against you. “And it’s all mine.”

“All yours,” you softly echoed, head falling back against the pillows as he brought his fingers back, shoving them into you, in tune with his tongue. Roman had no inhibitions. He didn’t care that his face was smeared with blood and arousal. He lived for it.

You were so ridiculously sensitive that even the slightest of touches had you reeling, hips bucking against him. He suckled and slurped, as messy as could be, paying attention to every last inch of you. 

“Moan for me,” he rasped, “let daddy know how good it feels.”

So you did. You moaned and gasped and whimpered, clawing at the sheets, at his hair, at anything you could. In the process, he went lower delving his tongue into you, nose nudging against your gathering of sensitive nerves. 

He alternated this, moving back to your clit, fingers deep inside you before he switched again, tongue inside you. “Fuck my face,” came his voice again, breathless. You looked down to find his eyes on you. “Hump my fucking mouth like the desperate little slut I know you are.”

With a whimper, you obeyed, reaching down to wind your fingers through his hair before you began rutting vigorously against his mouth. Roman growled again, letting you do as you pleased. Harder, faster. His cheeks, his mouth, his lips, all glistening ruby red. 

Your fingernail scraped against his scalp, but he didn’t care. It only fueled his arousal. He was so hard, slowly grinding against the bed, cock throbbing, leaking, aching. He was sure he’d be able to come like this if he wanted. But he wasn’t going to let that happen. When he came, he’d be inside you. 

You were burning up again, goosebumps long gone. The flame coiled deep within the very core of you, swirling through your entire body. Your head was spinning, thighs trembling, back arching off the bed. His hands gripped your thighs tight enough to bruise. The pain only heightened the insurmountable pleasure, and your mouth was falling open, pathetic moans and whimpers clawing their way up your throat, 

That heat was growing, growing, growing, soon becoming a wildfire, and you were crying out. “Please! I’m so close, please let me come!” 

Roman didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He simply let you take what you needed, using his mouth to get yourself off. He was just as loud as you, moans muffled against you. He loved when you got this desperate, unable to contain yourself, willing to do anything to reach that release. 

Eyes squeezed shut, mouth open wide, chest heaving. You could feel it, taste it. Right there, just out of your reach. Sweat prickled against your skin, your muscles ached. You clenched around Roman’s fingers so tightly he could barely move them.

“D-daddy, I-” But the words died in your throat. 

And then, you were done for, tipping over that edge and screaming his name in the process, convulsing in fiery, all consuming pleasure. Slowly, you came down, weak, shaky, speechless. Roman slowly lapped at you, the taste of blood and cum on his tongue. 

When he pulled back, you relaxed against the bed, looking down to find him covered in your blood. Without missing a beat, he was moving to hover over you, staring down with eyes that were predatory. He kissed you, deeply, messily, smearing blood all over your mouth. Then he pulled back to suck the rest of it from the fingers that had been inside you moments before. 

He motioned downwards. “Look how hard you made me,” he gritted out, reaching down to grip his cock. “Almost made me come all over the bed, too.” Then he was shoving into you, and you were squealing, entirely too sensitive. 

“Daddy!” You gasped, “I’m too sensitive!”

“Too bad,” he hissed, thrusting roughly into you, which had you yelping. He grinned at that, picking up the pace, not even giving you any time to adjust as he began rutting into you, looking down to watch his cock sink into you, only to pull out halfway and admire the scarlet slicked skin. 

All you could do was hold onto him while he fucked you, hard and fast, hips slamming against yours, the sound of your wetness so erotic yet so vulgar at the same time. You were soaked, and your blood only providing more lubrication, which enabled Roman to effortlessly slide in and out of you. 

“You’re nasty, you know that?” He breathlessly spoke, eyeing you. “Letting me fuck your bloody little cunt. You gonna let me come inside it too?”

“Y-yes daddy.”

He placed his hands on either side of your head, licking his lips, looking rather wolfish above you. “Good, cause I was gonna do it anyway.”

He shoved your legs up higher, over his shoulders, and he went harder, faster, deeper. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t even moan. Your mouth hung open, no sound coming out, as your eyes rolled back into your head. His hand wrapped around your throat then, squeezing. It was then that you looked up at him, meeting his eyes. 

“Fuck, you just got so tight. You love when daddy squeezes your little throat, don’t you?”

And all you could do was let out a strangled whimper and nod. This only spurred Roman on, and he squeezed your throat a little tighter, restricting your airflow a little, and it had your eyes rolling back in your head, hips lifting off the bed to meet his thrusts. He clenched his jaw, slowing only momentarily when you clamped down around him, so much so that it was difficult for him to move. He almost lost it, too, dick twitching painfully as a whine left his mouth. 

His will to stave off that impending release began to dwindle though. With each thrust, it became harder and harder not to let go. He paused then, removing his hand from your throat, instead grasping your hips tightly in both hands, pulling you even closer, if at all possible. 

Then, he was continuing at that brutal pace, fucking you savagely. Now you could scream, and you did. You didn’t care who heard, didn’t care if you were too loud. Neither did Roman. 

“I want you to squirt all over my fucking dick,” he snarled. And at the rate he was going, you were going to do exactly that. Somewhere along the lines, he grabbed your hand, forcing it down between your legs, telling you to play with your clit. 

Obediently, you did, all while he kept that pace. You could feel yourself getting worked up all over again, all hot and desperate. You managed to force the words out. “D-daddy, may...may I please come?”

“Do it,” he gasped, “I want to feel that little pussy coming all over me.”

It didn’t take long for you to become overwhelmed for the second time that night, a release so powerful you nearly blacked out, soaking Roman and the bedsheets below you in the process.

You’d barely come down when Roman was grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks harshly. “I’m going to fill you with my fucking cum,” he hissed, and you jolted against him, whining pathetically, too sensitive for anymore stimulation. 

Roman offered several more thrusts before he was done for, crying out your name as his pearly white essence seeped into your aching cunt. He buried his face against the side of your neck, taking a moment to catch his breath. You wrapped your arms around him, whimpering quietly, thanking him.

When he pulled back, you reached up to stroke his cheek. “I love you, daddy.”

He kissed you then. “And I love you.” Another kiss before he was moving down between your legs again. 

You looked down at him questioningly, hoping he wasn’t about to give you another orgasm. You could hardly handle it, you knew. “What...what are you doing?”

He grinned, wickedly almost. “Made such a mess inside your little pussy. Gotta clean it all up.” And then, he proceeded to dive right back in, lapping up every last drop of blood and cum that he could, because, after all, he always cleaned up after himself.


End file.
